And If you ever have to ask, “do you still love me?” I can tell you this: Our story isn’t finished yet.

It’s not over until we live under the same roof, making waffles on Saturday mornings and taking the dogs on walks.

It’s not over until I’ve taken your last name, your side on the bed and all of the snacks you e hidden in the cupboard.

It’s not over until I have your children, looking at me with their green eyes and telling me how they think desert first would be better tonight (and it would).

It’s not over until we see the world together, collecting photos as souvenirs for a photo album that has been filled long ago.

It’s not over until we create yearly traditions. Celebrating the family that we have and created on multiple days of the year.

It’s not over until we help each other achieve our goals and succeed together.

It’s not over until years have passed, we are gray and old, sitting on the porch watching the sunset every single night.

So if you ever find yourself wondering, know that if I’m breathing – I’ll be in love with you until my last breath.

I can see it in your eyes when you look at me

You’re scared that I’ll leave

But darling, I’m not going anywhere

You’re the only thing keeping me together

The origin of Valentine’s day is about as romantic as all of the February 14th’s of my past combined.

All because Saint Valentine defied his emperor Claudius II in the 1400s by helping people elope in secret behind his back, and getting sentenced to death in the process, we celebrate a Hallmark holiday to confess our love for the special person that we have in our life in his honor.

I never had a desire to long for someone on a simple day in the year just to simply call someone my Valentine, but no one that ever crossed my path would risk their life just to allow the people to marry the ones that they loved. So, I never participated and as the years drug on – it became just another Hallmark holiday I over looked and rejoiced with discount chocolate the next day.

Then here I am, watching your face light up over the small line drawing I did of us for our very first Valentine’s Day and I understood.

It was never about the Hallmark holiday that everyone made too big of a deal out of. It was a reminder to express the love you hold for those in your life. You didn’t want to celebrate to be like everyone else in the world, you wanted to celebrate to show how much you loved me in a grander way than the little things you do for me every day.

At the end of the night, I’m laying here in my bed wrapped up in the California king sized blanket that you got me and reminiscing about how loved you make me feel for the first time in my life.

If it was the 1400s, and it was illegal, I’d put my life on the line just to feel like this for the rest of our lives, no matter how short it may be.

I couldn’t tell you how I felt. There I was, sitting in your truck in the passenger side, taking in the view of the incoming city lights. You were by my side, one hand on the wheel and the other gently rubbing the back of my left hand. All I could think about is how I’m not suppose to be here.

This wasn’t my plan at all – to meet you, to fall in love with you, to be here right now in this moment.

I wasn’t suppose to be there, that day. I wasn’t suppose to watch the sun sink and see that twinkle in your eyes, the ones that resembled the stars I gazed at and longed to be with. I wasn’t suppose to see constellations that made up who you are by the stories that you carried, I wasn’t suppose to collect them to reminisce right before bed. I wasn’t suppose to be there at all. Instead, I’m drawn further into the city on a Saturday night to your friends at the Yellow Rose. I closed my eyes, listening to your Ohio accent as you sing an old country song.

I was never one to put down roots and anchor myself to solid ground, I figure that not long after, I’d need replanting. I was constantly moving to the next pot, wondering what it felt like to stand still. But you – you felt like home and in no time, I was blooming. How am I suppose to know what to feel when you rescued me without even knowing that I needed saving?

Because I was suppose to be on a drive, alone. Like the night before. My ears were suppose to be ringing with heavy music to drown my thoughts out or help aid in a decision I shouldn’t make. If I didn’t find the warmth in the air so inviting, If I let the dogs out five minutes before, if I didn’t hesitate to grab my keys, if I didn’t ask you to stay – I wouldn’t be here, with you.

I never told you that, I couldn’t find a way to properly say thank you for existing because that day in the yard – I saw something in you. Something that I am seeing in this point in time, looking outside of your window and seeing those small specks of light in from buildings in the distance.

It’s hard to think about at times, how just your presence changed the course of my life. I sat there listening to you tell me how I did the same, how I’m the greatest thing that ever happened to you, how I make you the happiest you’ve ever been, how you have never felt a love like this before – when you have no idea the impact you’ve made simply by saying hello, by walking into my yard, and by caring for a stranger on one Sunday evening.

When I look back at you, you’re smiling. Drawing my hand up to your mouth and placing a gentle kiss, leaving behind a chill that swept through my body. You remind me once again, I should be here and stay, with you.

It was late and I was thinking about who I was a year ago, and who I am now because if they were to ever meet – they would be strangers. All I could hear was the sound of my fan spinning and all of those old empty promises I used to believe in, told me was gullible.

The new me was carving out pass to take and every now and then I would arrive at a crossroad between old trauma responses and new beginnings. It’s a hell of a lot easier to go down the path that’s already been beaten that to uproot a brand-new one – so I often revisit at all places.

It’s not that all of the old pathways were overgrown, it’s that sometimes, I needed a new path to get me where I am supposed to be. Whether that means I have to backtrack, or make my way through.

And I don’t know where the road ends, but I’ll be happy if it leads to you.

It took me a long time to realize what exactly the word safe means. From a simple Google search, I can tell you that safe means “protected from or not exposed to danger or risk; not likely to be harmed or lost. “But what does that mean in every day life?

Before, I was always cautious with every step that I took. Looking over my shoulder, clutching my arms around my body. I think moved quickly and out of the way. My eyes started scanning the room and my ears were listening to anything but the sound of my footsteps. I was alert.

Then, I met you.

I can feel your presence hovering a few feet from me and crowded rooms. I watch my body language for any sign. I listen to the sound of your voice coming through your mom‘s truck speakers making sure I wasn’t alone after a car accident.I can feel your presence hovering a few feet from me and crowded rooms. I watch my body language for any sign. I listen to the sound of your voice coming through your mom‘s truck speakers making sure I wasn’t alone after a car accident.

You’re the reason that I feel comfortable in a sea of your friends getting to know me. You’re the reason that I am not afraid to show how I am feeling, and can ask for a comforting hand. You’re the reason I know that I’m not alone when bad things happen. Because no matter what, I know now that I will be taken care of and properly cared for.

You’re the reason I feel safe in this world and I cannot thank you enough.

I was between a dream and reality, laying there in your bed curled up at your side. I could hear a faint calling, but I couldn’t respond. I wake up to your arms tightening around my body and pulling me into your chest. I could feel it rising and falling faster than usual. I managed to speak up.

Can you change of me leaving, and I am reminded once again that I am not alone in this. Using me and me losing you was a shared fear.

So I began, words of reassurance bored out of my mouth. I lightly rub her back and told you how much I loved you. I heard the crack on your voice when you told me you loved me, but I didn’t say anything.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only one with worries and fears. I forget that I need to be reassuring about how I feel about you. I forget that you have anxieties that don’t manifest and you picking at your nails, but another ways.

I don’t forget because I don’t care. I forget because I have never known what it has been like for someone to love me the way that you do, for someone to be afraid to lose me, for someone to treat me the way that you do and I think God to experience these little moments with you.

I saw it there, in your kitchen laughing at old videos of you and embarrassing photos that your friends were willingly showing me. It was peaceful, feeling as if I belong for the first time in years.

He stood in the doorway, watching the game on the television, hope you’re in your hand, casually glancing over your shoulders at the sound of my voice. You chatted with a friend of yours, eyes on the living room.He stood in the doorway, watching the game on the television, hope you’re in your hand, casually glancing over your shoulders at the sound of my voice. You chatted with a friend of yours, eyes on the living room.

“Do you see what he is doing?” She spoke nodding in your direction. Our conversation went to a halt.

“Yes?” I asked in the form of a question. I never noticed how you lingered in a crowd of people.

“He’s guarding you.” She smiled and lightly shook her head. “He’s making sure you’re comfortable and okay.” And I smiled to myself.

You were subconsciously protecting me, staying within reach. I felt the warmth rushed to my chest. It was a little things that make me fall in love with you every day.